Reap
by nitric-hamster
Summary: Harry finds everyone in his life being erased, one by one. What will happen when only one is left? R for strong violence
1. Prologue: Where is She?

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.  
  
**Prologue  
Where is She?**

'Don't worry about it, mate. Five pounds on she'll come back with a bunch of twittering baby owls,' Ron said with a grin, patting Harry on the back.  
  
'I know,' Harry sighed, 'It's just that she's never been gone this long before.'  
  
'I'm sure she has,' Ron shrugged. 'You tell me all the time she's gone for weeks at a time when you stay with the Dursleys.' Harry nodded, but he still didn't feel any better. He looked out on a starless night, waiting for Hedwig's silhouette to come crashing towards him with a giant parcel, or even a letter. He didn't really care as long as she just came back, and soon.  
  
'If you have to send something that bad, there's nothing wrong with the school owls,' Ron commented as he slid on some tattered old boxers. They were a couple sizes too small for him, and he almost fell into a bedpost as he jumped around squeezing his gigantic foot in a leg hole. Harry smiled weakly and shook his head.  
  
'Ron, that's not the point. D'you think Hedwig is all right out there?' He couldn't hide the urgency in his voice, and for once Ron looked genuinely worried.  
  
'You okay, Harry? You don't look so good. And...yeah, I'm sure Hedwig's fine,' he added as a casual afterthought. But even Ron didn't sound too sure.  
  
'Hedwig can take care of herself,' Hermione pointed out the next morning over breakfast. She slopped a small mountain of baked beans onto her plate and began to eat like she'd been starved for the past week.  
  
'Hermione, if making yourself throw up is supposed to make me feel better, I'll warn you now that it won't,' Harry said, poking his bacon dejectedly. He pushed it away, not really feeling like eating.  
  
'Look, here comes the post now, maybe Hedwig is there,' Hermione said happily, pointing up at the maze of wings and parcels. Harry looked up hopefully, but once again he didn't see a flash of white anywhere. He hung his head back down again and stared at his food.  
  
'Harry, look!' Ron yelled. Harry looked up just in time to see a brawny eagle owl swoop down and offer him a tiny envelope.  
  
'Thanks,' he muttered gruffly, giving the bird a bite of toast before it took off. Harry stared at the letter, wondering what it could be about, until Ron ordered him to open it. Shaking his head, he figured it was probably from Hagrid asking him to visit the hut later. But Hagrid usually didn't use such fancy envelopes...Curiosity got the better of him and Harry tore open the envelope. Something small fluttered out, but no letter. Harry leaned over to examine what had fallen onto the table, and suddenly the hall was filled with a bloodcurdling wail.  
  
A feather, so covered in blood you could barely make out the white, sat there staring up at him. 


	2. Threats

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.  
  
**Chapter One  
Threats**  
  
_'Mr. Potter, Go to the astronomy tower at dawn tomorrow. Bring no one. If you do not show up, your owl may have a fresh companion.'_  
  
Harry reread the note that he'd found on his windowsill that evening, a week or so after Hedwig's murder. It was short, curt, and sounded to him like a practical joke. Someone's idea of funny, most likely Malfoy and his cronies. Everyone in the school seemed to have found out about his owl, and Malfoy wouldn't shut up about the whole ordeal, naturally. He seemed to find something incredibly funny about it, and kept on mimicking a strangled bird in potions.  
  
Harry sighed and flung the note in the fire. Stupid Malfoy. As if he'd actually go to the tower, there would probably be a bunch of Slytherins with hexes at the ready waiting for him. What did they take him for?  
  
He flopped onto his favorite armchair and watched the embers smolder, casting dancing shadows over the floor. They shed a golden light over everything, and made his skin turn a deep rosy shade. _Like I'm bleeding_, Harry couldn't help but think. _Bleeding like Hedwig did_...  
  
He told himself to snap out of it. She was just an owl, it wasn't like Ron or Hermione had been murdered. Yet. He shook his head again, deciding he just needed some rest. Why would these thoughts not stop plaguing him? He yawned widely and listened to his bones crackle as he stretched. _I'll just get a new owl in Hogsmeade next trip_, he decided. But it was no use. Nothing would ever be able to replace Hedwig.

'That one's nice, look, he seems to be almost golden, like a phoenix...'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Then how about this one, I've never seen a black owl like him before'-  
  
'No.'  
  
Hermione and Ron finally gave up, telling Harry they would be in the Three Broomsticks if he needed them. He hadn't even looked at the owls they had pointed out, but automatically turned down every one. And it had been his idea in the first place; he was being so unbearably rude. They had no choice but to leave him to his own devices.  
  
After spending half the day skulking around the pet store, Harry left with nothing but a stench as foul as his mood about him. When he stormed into the Three Broomsticks, Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen. Instead of searching around for the two like he normally would have, his feet led him to the Shrieking Shack. He leaned on the fence for a while, staring at the strange looking building but seeing nothing, swimming in shapeless thoughts. And then something occurred to him.  
  
Hermione and Ron said that they'd be in the Three Broomsticks. They'd told him they would be. And yet, they were nowhere to be seen.  
  
The note said to go to the astronomy tower. He hadn't gone.  
  
Harry's breath caught halfway up his windpipe as he turned and fled, sprinting until he felt like every pore on his skin was bleeding. If they were dead, it was all his fault. He couldn't believe he'd taken that chance; he should have just gone to the bloody astronomy tower, even if the Slytherins had hexed him into a pulp. At least he would have known it was all a hoaxd, at least he would have known his friends were safe.  
  
He had no idea where they would be, but he had a fairly good hunch. Without pausing to let the stitches covering his sides ease, he ignored the protests of those whose feet he trampled and shoved his way into Honeydukes. No one noticed the wiry seventeen-year-old break into the cellar and disappear under the floorboards.  
  
Harry blindly stumbled all the way to the astronomy tower. It wasn't dark, but black splotches danced in front of his eyes and threatened to veil them completely. He did his best to ignore them, but when he reached the top of the stairs he couldn't.  
  
Harry Potter dropped into a dead faint, barely feeling the lukewarm crimson bath he was being drowned in. 


	3. A Girl and Her Cat

Disclaimer: If I owned these characters, I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.  
  
(A/N: Thanks for reviewing my very few reviewers! This is mostly the same as the last chapter 3 I posted, but with minor changes)  
  
**Chapter Two  
A Girl and Her Cat**

At least it hadn't been Ron and Hermione. That was all Harry could think as he sat slumped some book, a week to the day he had found Neville's blood swollen corpse. He had taken refuge in the library because he was sick of how people had been treating him lately. He was not fragile, he was not made of glass, so why did they all treat him like he was about to break? It was exactly how he'd been treated after the Dementor Incident in third year. In a way, though, the dementors had touched Harry again; he could no longer think of anything happy, just Neville's murder. It was his fault Neville was dead, if only he'd just gone to the damn astronomy tower. He cursed himself aloud, slamming the book in front of him shut. There was time; this wasn't the end, he knew it. They would be back, and when they came, he would be ready._'Mr. Potter, I hope you see now that we are serious. We are highly regretful that you refused to listen to us the first time, but perhaps now you will follow our instructions. Go to the astronomy tower an hour after you receive this. We will be waiting.'_  
  
Harry trembled and slowly ripped the note into tiny shreds, letting them flutter down to the floor. They had just jibed him about Neville's death, like it was a _joke_! He furiously pounded his heel into the tatters of parchment and marched off in a murderous mood. He started for the astronomy tower, hoping to head them off, but thought better of it. This time he would do exactly as they said, and perhaps no one would get harmed.  
  
So, exactly an hour later, he found himself ascending the stairs to the astronomy tower. He clambered up quickly and with no rests, finally noting how many stairs there were after six years of having to climb them. He was out of breath by the time he reached the top. Harry paused, clutching his side and letting the blood flow back to his head.  
  
He glanced around searching for his wand under his robes. Thankfully it was there; however, that appeared to be the only thing in the tower with him. He'd been expecting a circle of death eaters to close in on him, or Voldemort to jump out of the shadows and kill him with a gust of green. But no one was there. Not even a lifeless corpse.  
  
Harry gave the chamber a good search, jumping at every shadow from the flickering torches, blasting at stationary rocks in the wall. He didn't know what to think. Half of him was relieved he was perfectly safe for the time being, but the other half was seething. He had been looking forward to revenge, he had wanted to face the murderers and show them exactly how he felt about them, but they were too gutless to show their faces. Scowling, Harry turned to leave, when something caught his eye. It was just a flash of silver, a tiny speck, but it was enough to make him turn around and take a few tentative steps into the room. He searched the floor, because Harry was positive that's where it came from. But nothing was there.  
  
'_Lumos_,' he muttered. A beam of pale blue light shot to the ground and probed around. He viciously waved his lit wand until he finally found what he was looking for.

'No,' he whispered. 'No, no, no.'  
  
He carefully wrapped part of his robes around his hand and picked up a knife. It was finely carved, with ribs of silver and a curved blade, once a beautiful antique. But now it had a coating of dried blood on it so thick it looked like rust. Harry felt like he was going to hurl as he stared at it, scratching some flaked of crimson off with a fingernail, and sniffing the stale, bitter smell about the wretched thing. He was so distressed he wouldn't have noticed the faded note dangling from the knife's hilt had it not swung around violently and given him a paper cut.  
  
He fingered it carefully, glad to see it didn't have a trace of red on it. Just dark purple ink curved into beautiful cursive handwriting. At least, it would have been beautiful writing had it not been for what it said.  
  
_'Mr. Potter,  
So good of you to have come. But perhaps your time would be better spent searching for a certain friend of yours...and their cat.'_  
  
'Oh damn,' Harry swore. He read the paper over and over again, willing it not to be who it sounded like, willing it to be someone else, anyone else...He raced back to the Gryffindor common room yelling for Hermione at the top of his lungs. There was no one else it could possibly be. He was weeping by the time someone finally appeared at the top of the girl's staircase. Unfortunately it wasn't Hermione.  
  
'Shut up, you lunatic,' Parvati Patil snapped sleepily. Harry glowered at her, but there was no time for petty bickering.  
  
'Where's Hermione?' he panted.  
  
'I don't know, why don't you go look for her if you're so keen to find her?' Parvati sneered.  
  
'What? You mean she's not in her bed?'  
  
'No, she said something about extra credit for history of magic,' Parvati shrugged. 'You know Hermione, even though she's got over a hundred in that class she still has to...wait, Harry, where are you going?' Harry didn't hear a word Parvati said after that. He had thrown himself out the portrait hole and hurtled towards the History of Magic room.

**Queenofinsanity**: what's about it for now?  
  
**Spike**: Yes, Tracy, the bird is dead  
  
**Becca-gurl**: Nope, they didn't die...yay!  
  
**TinkerbellCutie**: Um, dani? U feeling ok?


End file.
